


When Niñita Was A Niñita

by OhBelieveYouMe



Series: Thanks, Tumblr [1]
Category: Trouble in the Heights (2011)
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:43:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8342065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhBelieveYouMe/pseuds/OhBelieveYouMe
Summary: Anonymous asked:Hello!!! I'm from AO3 and read ur stories. In a later chap u talk abt how Nevada was around Ninita while she grew up can you just write a little abt how it was then? Like when she was actually younger???
  An out-of-order collection of Nevada/Niñita/Natalia ficlets





	1. Lil Girl

**Author's Note:**

> _Heyyooo Hello darling! Thanks for reading, I really appreciate it!!! And thank you for the request, this got a little lengthy, haha. I liked writing this, what a cute idea. I kinda hit on some things I’ve written about in the story too, so I hope you like it!!_

What seventeen year old gets stuck chasing after grade school kids on a weekend?  
Nevada. Nevada got stuck chasing little girls when he could be out making money, doing something worthwhile. Instead, he watched as two sets of pig tails jumped and skipped along the cement ahead of him, while carrying a large grocery bag in each arm. His padre would beat him black and blue if anything happened to them. 

"Step onna' crack," Natalia sang out with her arms high in the air, little pink dress flailing as she did. "And ya break your momma's back." 

Your feet came crashing down on a rather large gap in the sidewalk, and you jumped in the same place twice to hopefully bring the omen to life. Nevada laughed, bumping your back with his leg when he caught up with you. "Keep goin, killer," he teased lightly. 

You only hopped to the next crack, and Natalia whined when she saw you do so. "You're gonna make bad luck, _Your Name_."

"Am not," You protested stubbornly, and your best friend rolled her eyes at you. Even while so young, you two were probably the sassiest ladies he'd ever met. He'd be in for hell when you girls were teenagers. "The poem's silly anyways." 

"You mad at your mami?" Nevada asked condescendingly. You were always at their apartment anyway, he wondered if there really was conflict at your home. 

"It doesn't matter," you mumbled under your breath. That was as good as a 'yes'. He quickened his pace to try and keep up, suddenly much more interested in you than he had been mere moments before. 

"Everything okay?" He was hovering now; you playfully went to jumping to either side of his shadow as it appeared ahead of your steps. 

You shrugged, pigtails bouncing as you rocked your head side to side. "Her new boyfriend is just annoying," you admitted loudly, and Natalia had slowed a bit so she could listen as well. "He always takes her out with him and I'm not allowed to watch TV when they're gone so it's boring." 

"How often do they go out?" Nevada asked nosily, eyebrow perking at the confession you likely didn't know you made. "Is it a lot?" 

You nodded, and stopped paying attention to where your feet landed so you could look up at him. Still walking, you squint to focus on his face as the sun hit your eyes. "Yea, mostly every night, that's why I gotta be home when the streetlights go on," You knew your rules, and you were a good girl. Of course you followed them. "So Mami can lock the door while I'm inside, so no boogeymen get me, you kno-"

Before you could finish, your shoes had somehow managed to get stuck in a gap in the broken sidewalk. Your precarious position proved detrimental, and you stumbled over your twisted leg and onto your side. Cement scraped at your knees and your elbows, you yelped out loud once your face hit the hard ground. Natalia wailed your name, and benevolently ran to get by your side. 

Nevada winced, that was a Hell of a fall, and he dropped the grocery bags at his side as he went to crouching. "Oh shit, are you okay?" 

"That's a bad word, Vada," Natalia chastised inappropriately, but he ignored her. 

"Hey, _Your Name_ , you okay honey?" He pulled at your ankles, stretching out your legs so he could survey your skinned knees. Yanking your arms taught, he studied your bloody elbows, before pinching at your cheek to check the mark left on your chin. "Awe, you're gonna be okay." 

Little tears pricked at your eyes, and you whimpered. Nevada counteracted it quickly, leaning in to peck a healing kiss on your chin, then kissing his own fingertips and placing them delicately on every injury. "There, see, you're gonna be all better." 

"I'm not four, Nevada," you grumped, but you were still too young to know how to maintain a poker face. And so you cheesed while hopping up to your feet, grabbing hold of Natalia's wrist so you both could walk much more carefully, side by side. 

He wouldn't bring up your statement about your mother to you again. Instead, he'd tell his mother while he helped her put away groceries, and together they decided to encourage sleep overs. From that day on, you were welcomed over any night you wanted to come by, and you'd be fed good dinners and allowed to watch all the TV you wanted after the streetlights went off. Natalia's room basically became yours as well, and slowly you became a pseudo-permanent part of the household. 

No boogeymen would be getting you.  
Not if Nevada had anything to do with it. 

\--- 

"NEVADA!" 

He flinched from his spot in the living room. You sounded pissed. Cautiously, he glanced over his shoulder to see what you could be ranting about. Fortunately for him, he was just in time to realize you had hurled a baseball his way. He ducked, and the ball slammed into the wall behind him. 

Oh. That's why you were mad. 

"Ay, no no no!" Nevada jumped to his feet, knowing for a fact there were more where that came from. "Calm down, I can explain this-"

"YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!" You hollered, and he shook his finger at you in a warning fashion. "They will NEVER let me play now, because they'll all know you took them-"

"Fuck those ninos." He jumped when another baseball was tossed at his feet. "You do throw like a girl, though." 

Your jaw dropped. "You're AWFUL, Nevada!" Tears sparked at the corners of your eyes. That was what the boys had told you when they first refused to let you play ball last week. He knew it, too- that was why he stole all the baseballs. If you couldn't play, none of those little fuckers would play. 

"Why were you in my room?" That was definitely the question he was more interested in. A ten year old had no reason to be digging through his things- there were things much more dangerous than stolen spots equipment hiding in there. What if you had found a gun, money, or even the drugs? 

You scoffed. "That's not important." Stomping your foot on the ground, you went to toss another ball at him, but he had plenty of size and speed on you. Before the sphere left your hand, you were tackled by him diving at your waist. Howling, you fell to the floor, and he stubbornly straddled your waist by placing knees on either side of you. 

"You don't go into my room, Niñita." He ordered, easily pinning both your hands above your head. 

"Stop fucking up my life, Vada!" 

How dramatic. "Don't call me thaaaat." He hid baseballs from boys who wouldn't even let you play, how was that fucking up your life? Just to taunt you, since he could, he started to act like he was going to spit in your face. 

Instinctively, you rocked your hips since he had sat so high on you, and you managed to hook your ankles and feet into his shoulders. In a swift movement that completely caught him off guard, you pulled your feet back to the ground. It wasn't your strength that made him fall, more the surprise of black Mary Janes coming from nowhere before gravity took its toll. 

Nevada hit the ground hard enough for the back of his head to make a resounding 'crack' against the hardwood. Though you were still pissed, the thought that you may have hurt him overruled. He lay still, eyes shut, and your heart dropped in your chest. 

"Vada?" You crawled over him, straddling his hips similar to how he had done to you, and you placed your hands on his chest. "Nevada? Vada, wake up, please." You gripped onto his shirt, shaking him, but he barely budged. Quickly, you lay your head over where his heart should be, ear pressed against him. You could hear him breathing, thank God, and you couldn't help but smile. 

Before you could figure your next move, two large arms wrapped around you, efficiently pinning you to his chest. You whined, but he rolled over, squashing you beneath him as he chuckled. "Don't ever pull shit like that again, Niñita." He ordered roughly, before using his arms to raise himself up from you and the floor. "If I didn't like you so much, I'd make you swallow every one of those you threw at me." He walked away as you worked to get to your feet, and slammed his bedroom door behind him. "You crazy little bitch." 

\--- 

He came home to see you sitting on the steps leading up to the modest apartment. Face buried in your hands, shoulders bobbing helplessly. Cigarette between his lips, he leaned against the thin metal railing, and tapped at your shoe with his own. "What's got you all whiny?" 

"The girls say I'm a plain jane," You whimpered, even though part of you knew Nevada likely didn't care. "They say that's why nobody will take me to the dance." You were just waiting for Natalia to get home. 

Nevada flinched. Likely, nobody would take you to the dance because he had beaten up the last eighth grader who asked you- because he had also asked someone else. Kids were idiots; really, they thought they could get away with anything. Nobody got one over on him though. 

"That's not true, though," He began gently, carefully. Girls were odd, he had been learning lately. A compliment could twist in their little brains; he was scared to risk it. "Where's Natalia?" She should be the one handling this, not him. 

You sniffled. "Dress shopping with your mami," You rest your chin on your knees, and wrapped your arms around your legs to hug them to your chest. 

Nevada noticed your derriere revealed when you shifted, since you were still in your school uniform. "Be a lady," he insisted first, using his foot to kick at yours so they fell down to the step in front of you, successfully lowering your legs so no passersby on the sidewalk could see up your skirt. Much better. "Anyway, you're not a plain jane, they're just jealous little putas." 

You giggled despite your tears, and it made him smile. "But nobody wants to go to the dance with me." 

"It's a middle school dance," he pointed out bluntly, but apparently his attempt at proving irrelevance didn't work. Frustrated, but also mildly concerned, he tapped at your shoes again with his foot. "Get inside, c'mon." 

-

He laughed out loud as you choked on the smoke. "Breathe, _Your Name_ , breaaathe." 

You hadn't smoked in a while, the only times you ever did was when you were with the Ramirezs. But now, in Nevada's room, you two passed a joint back and forth as you whined and he listened to every word. He was good at listening sometimes. Now was apparently one of those times- lucky you. 

"I'm ugly, I want to be pretty." You coughed, and reached over him to retrieve the water that was sitting on the table. "Like the popular girls," you suggested simply while sniffling. 

Nevada huffed. "I know the popular girls, they're sluts." He cackled, and you covered your mouth with your fingers to hide your giggling. "And you're definitely not ugly." His head shook to prove sincerity; he really didn't want you to think you were ugly. Not only was it untrue, but there's no reason you should feel poorly over something so silly. 

You continued to whine, loosening up as the pot hit your head. "But I wanna be pretty." You caught your reflection in a mirror his mother kept on the wall. All you could think of was the taunting the girls had laid on you earlier; plain jane, plain jane, plain jane. 

"Okay, look;" Nevada reached across the table and grabbed hold of your chin, raising it up until you couldn't crane your neck any further. "Always, always keep your chin high. You're better than those little girls, and you're way better than any of those cry baby tears." He let go of you, and when you went to lower your face again, he jabbed a fingertip in the soft part under your chin to keep it up. It hurt, but his words made up for the pinch. "You are the most magnificent niñita I know, honey." He took his hand back, and you didn't drop. "Don't worry about stupid dances or stupid girls." 

"Thank you, Nevada." You rocked to your knees, and placed an innocent peck of a kiss on his cheek. He grinned, giving a tug on your braids to make you sit back down. 

"And just so you know- if I was in your grade," He passed over the joint and tapped at your nose with his fingertip, "I'd take you to that dance before I'd ask any of those stupid girls." 

You blushed, and rolled your eyes, but Natalia tore into the bedroom before you could respond. Immediately distracted, you dropped the joint into the ashtray and leapt to your feet as she held a glamorous navy blue dress in front of herself. "Oh baby, it's beautiful!" You squealed, gingerly pulling at the glittering fabric to examine the skirts. She nodded vibrantly, and spun to show how the skirt fanned out. "Natalia, you're gonna be the most beautiful girl there-" You insisted, then turned over your shoulder once you remembered Nevada was in the room. 

"Nevada, won't she be the prettiest ever?" You asked, and he had to smile at the sparkle in your eye. 

"Maybe," he conceded, nodding knowingly as he retrieved the joint you had abandoned. "She might be..." 

\--- 

Nevada had been gone for a little over two months. On business, he had advised Natalia vaguely, and she had accepted it blindly. You had been gone for about five months beforehand, something about an attempt at college and the like. It hadn't worked out, you craved freedom too much to be laboring over books and speeches, but unfortunately your return was just a week too late- he was already gone. 

A lot can change in seven months; despite how little of time it actually was in the grand scheme of a life. "Natalia," he spoke loudly, trying to be heard over the phone despite the music pulsating around him. "Nat, come out to Green Street, your hermano is home." She chattered on the other end, agreeing and promising she'd be there soon. He hung up as soon as he was confident in her answer. 

-

"NEVADA!" His attention was caught, by a hand flailing up in the middle of the crowd on the dance floor. Fingers wiggled, and he squint to try and see her face through the lights. He was up in the VIP section, overlooking the floor, and the lights were too much for him to decipher her features. It didn't look like Natalia, her hair was darker, but from what he could see of the mystery girl's slim frame and the shiny red dress hugging her curves- he certainly didn't mind if she joined him. 

"Come up," he ordered, motioning to the men guarding the entrance of his section. 

All eyes were planted on her when she expertly glided his way- how could anyone walk so well in stilettos? His men's faces followed her like they were watching a tennis match. Crudely, Nevada licked his lips as she made her way up the stairs, her face still turned as she wagged fingers under her chin towards someone she apparently recognized. How did she know any of his men? He'd definitely have remembered her, he'd have claimed her. Suddenly, it really didn't matter whether he knew her or not, because he'd definitely love to get to know her; every inch of her. Legs for days, an hourglass figure he'd love to tell time with-

Oh shit. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, nevermind. Back pedal, back pedal, back pedal. 

The second you faced him, his jaw fell open. It was you. You threw your arms royally into the air, and squealed the name he usually hated, "VADA, BABY!" Shamelessly, you wiggled your hips, waiting expectantly for him to greet you. "Nevada, I missed you- c'mere!" 

It took him a few seconds, but he diligently hopped to his feet and approached you as if he were dreaming. " _Your Name_?" He asked for confirmation before you nodded and coiled your arms around his neck. His hands remained in the air at his sides, afraid to touch you. When the fuck did you grow up? What were they feeding the kids at that college you disappeared to? 

"Nevada, I came home, isn't that great!?" You kept your fingers tangled behind his neck, so you dangled before him- goosebumps sparked on his skin. He nodded in agreeance, eyes still wide and surprised. "Natalia said you were here and I had to come find you, isn't that funny?" You hugged yourself to him once more, and he thought you knocked the breath out of him when your cheek hit his chest. "I love this club! She should be here soon," he shivered when you let go of him so you could snatch his wrist to check the time on his watch. "Yea, soon, definitely." 

Nevada swallowed, hard. "Good, I hate waiting." He had been at a loss of words, all the ones that came to mind were ones that if anyone else said them to you- he'd have kicked their teeth in. You leaned against his chest, arms first, and teasingly ruffled his hair when he remained stoic and silent. 

"Aren't you happy to see me?" You pouted, wondering if he was already too drunk to be friendly. Dancing in place, you shook your shoulders and ran your hands unblushingly up and down his arms. "You haven't even said hi, I missed you so much while I was away. Didn't you miss me, Va-"

Before you could continue, he rolled his eyes, and pulled you in tight against his chest. "Helllllooooo, Niñita." He rocked side to side with you trapped in his arms, and he cackled when you spouted back a muffled 'don't call me that'. Nevada kissed the top of your hair, and smiled at your familiar smell. When he let go, he held you out before him at arm's length and tisked his tongue in approval. "You've grown up, honey, you look good." 

You blushed, and beamed a smile back up his way. "Looks like you can't call me Niñita now. 'Cause I'm no niñita anymore, Nevada." You insisted brightly, hips swaying slightly at the music playing in the club. "Come dance, or are you too busy to have some fun, old man?" You stepped back away from him, and curled your fingers around his wrist to try and drag him along. "I love this song." 

He obliged you, gladly, and followed close behind as you led the way out to the dance floor. "You'll always be my Niñita," Nevada shouted over the music, and bit his lip when you glared at him over your shoulder. That was neither here nor there, though- he was definitely ready to dance with you. 


	2. Niñita's Firsts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little something I’ve been poking around at, a collection of mini-stories related to the relationship between Reader / Natalia / Nevada.  
> All are before the beginning of my “Don’t Call Me That” series.
> 
> Included in this go:  
> First Time Meeting Natalia  
> First Time Meeting Nevada  
> First Sleepover After Father Left  
> First Boyfriend  
> First Time Feeling Nevada’s Knuckles
> 
> There's likely going to be a part 2.

##  **First Time Meeting Natalia**

“I like your pin.” You leaned over the table and pointed directly at the little button clipped to the brunette’s overalls. She giggled, and reached across to pluck up a purple crayon. “Bunnies are cute,” you nodded to prove sincerity, and your curls bounced on your shoulders each time you did.

“Thank you!” She was studiously tracing dotted lines; the ‘art project’ for the day was to manage to spell your names on a long sheet of paper. If you finished your lines well before time was up, the teachers would give you stickers, and you’d be allowed to decorate your page with glittering ponies and unicorns. Stickers were an awfully effective form of bribery for six year olds. “Mi hermana gave it to me, she has lots.”

“It’s beautiful,” You had already turned back to your page, having decided to switch things up a bit. Your green crayon was switched for a yellow, and you beamed in reverence. You were an artistic genius. A passing teacher’s aide examined your work, and pat your back before handing off a sheet of the coveted sparkling stickers you chose. Finally!

“That looks good,” The other girl complimented you cheerily, while pouting down at her own page. “I’m never gonna get finished.” She eyed the disappearing stacks of stickers, and her face wilted at the sad possibility that all the ‘good ones’ would be gone. The clock on the wall, smartly marked with colored tape to indicate where the little hand would claim they’d all need to move along to the next project, was mocking her. It was almost little-hand-on-blue: reading time. How was she expected to complete a whole word between green and blue o'clock; why did her mother choose a long name- all those loops and lines?

You noticed her disappointment, and eagerly ran to the other side of the table so you could stand alongside her. Studying her progress so far, you clicked your tongue like your father would do when he helped you find the marbles in the I Spy books. “It’s just a long name, and it looks so pretty- you’ll get it,” you reassured her before looking down at your fresh sheet of stickers. “You want one? You can have three, you can pick them-”

Her eyes widened dramatically, and she sweetly wrapped her arms over your shoulders to show her appreciation of your kindness. She’d have pretty stickers on her name sheet after all! “You’re so nice,” she gasped while carefully prying three of the treasured gems from your sheet. With intense concentration, despite how the clock chimed once blue-o-clock was upon you, she slid her little fingertips over the stickers so they’d stay in place. “You’re so so nice, look, it’s beautiful.”

You nodded in agreeance, and lay the sheet of stickers along with your name. You could put them on your paper later, after your mother locked the doors for the night- something fun to do. “What’s your name?” You asked finally, while the little brunette held up her almost-completed sheet to admire how the clouds and horses shone back at her.

“Natalia!” She grinned, and very delicately slid her paperwork into her cubby. “Natalia Ramirez,” she clarified smartly, chin rising proudly as she did. Whatever.

“I’m _Your Name_.” You held out your hand to shake, but instead she pulled you in for another hug. You liked Natalia- she smelled like flowers, and she gave great hugs.

“You are so sweet, _Your Name_ ,” Little Natalia released you, and curled her fingers around your wrist to drag you along. It was officially reading time, and you all were headed to the circle rug so your teacher could recite a story from her big book of tales. “You’re gonna sit with me, that okay? You wanna sit with me?”

A friend? You smiled broadly, and nodded while following along so you two could sit side by side in front of the big red bean bag chair.

If only you had known how that would describe the two of you for the rest of your life- fingers tangled, side by side, forever with the other. Funny how some kindness and stickers can go so far…

\----

##  **First Time Meeting Nevada**

Natalia’s jaw dropped when you started to walk away from the school house. “ _Your Name_ WAIT!” She looked utterly shocked, the horror before her eyes too much to comprehend. You two officially decided to be best friends sometime between orange and yellow o'clock that day, after breakfast but before math. Natalia had given you half of her bagel when she realized you hadn’t brought your breakfast.

“Who walks you home?” Now that you two were in fact best friends, she was paying much more attention to you. Typically she waited for her escort inside, so she wouldn’t have seen you walk away alone. But best friends wait together, she had explained, so she had come with you to the front steps when you protested that there was nothing to wait for.

“Nobody,” Your eyebrow bounced, and she looked at you as if you had confessed to murder. “I live over on South and 16th, it’s only seven cross walks past the store that has ice cream on the weekends.”

“What if you get lost!?” Natalia looked as if she would start to cry. You two had first sat together about a week ago, and you were inseparable every moment you both were in the classroom. The thought of you taking a wrong left and not making it to class the next day made her blood run cold. “Or what if a bad man gets you-”

This time, your eyes widened- you hadn’t considered those thoughts. You had always walked home alone, your mommy got in from work after you arrived. “I-I don’t know…”

A tall boy, one of the boys that attended the high school on the opposite end of the block, stumbled out of the doors with his backpack slung over one shoulder. You wouldn’t usually pay attention to the older boys, it was odd enough he was where the younger children were released at the end of the day, but he bee-lined directly towards you and the awe-stricken Natalia.

“What’s your problem? Why weren’t you inside?” He asked grumpily, noticing the look on her face. He twisted to examine you, since you had reached across to snatch up her hand when he finally approached. “Who the Hell are you?”

“Nevada, where’s…” She faltered and looked back at you for a moment, trying to recall where you had said you lived. “South and… South and what, _Your Name_?”

Whispering; “16th.” You didn’t like the older boys; they reminded you of your mother’s boyfriends. The ones you weren’t allowed to talk about.

“South and 16th?” His eyebrows furrowed and he shrugged the other strap over his shoulder so his bag was square in the center of his back. “That’s practically where we live, you dummy,” as if it were a familiar practice, he grabbed hold of the handle of Natalia’s pink backpack, and pulled it off of her shoulders so he’d be carrying it. Nevada had claimed she walked too slow, so he started carrying the backpack for her in hopes to hurry her along. “It’s just down the street.”

“I’m not a dummy,” Natalia taunted, glaring up at her brother while he slid the big straps off her arms. “Can _Your Name_ walk home with us then?”

Nevada didn’t seem to be won over, “Why?” That was a loaded question, honestly, and so he clarified upon recognizing he was speaking to six year olds. “Why do I have to walk her home?” He squint, giving you a good look over. Another little girl was the last thing he wanted to deal with. “Where’s your mami? Who walks you home?” Why was everyone asking you that all of a sudden?

“Mami gets home after I do,” you weren’t sure why you were telling him this, besides the fact your new best friend seemed to trust him. Promptly, you dug the little silver key from a pouch in your backpack, and held it up for him to examine. Instead of clarifying, like you had been hoping, he only appeared more confused. “I got a key, see, I’m a big girl.”

“No you’re not,” He grunted and snatched the key from your hands as your face skewed in offense. What kind of mother has their kindergartner walk through the Heights alone? To go to an empty home? “You’re lying, you’re just a baby,” Nevada accused while carefully gauging your reaction.

This was getting too much. “I’m not a baby…” Natalia was kicking at Nevada’s shin, and rambling on about how he was awful. That must be what siblings are for, you thought absently. Good thing you didn’t have any. You turned to leave while they bickered.

It took a few moments of internal bickering before Natalia finally noticed you were missing. Again, she kicked Nevada, and told him how he must have scared you away. “Who got her though?”

Nevada caught sight of your curls, just as you went to turn a corner a block and a half away. You had to be fucking kidding him, you really did walk home alone. “What’s her name?” He insisted before stomping off in hurried steps. Natalia hadn’t been listening, so he prodded at her shoulder to get her attention. Instead of answering, she ran ahead. “Jesus Christ,” Nevada cursed, realizing how quickly he had lost total control of the group.

You paused when you heard Natalia, and were shocked to find both of them coming for you. Frozen in place, you waited until they were back at your side. All four green eyes were locked on you, as if you were an alien instead of just a child trying to get home.

“YOU-” Nevada shoved through past his sister so he could wag a finger authoritatively in your face. Who did he think he was? “You wait after school, tu entiendes?” You flinched at his tone, which definitely sounded more like an order than an offer. “You wait with Natalia and you walk with us, you hear me?”

“I’m a big girl-”

“No,” Nevada interrupted you and shook the finger side to side, your head bobbed as you kept careful watch of it. “No, you’re just a niñita, and you’re going to wait for me. No more walking alone, you fuckin’ hear me?” You nodded, what else were you supposed to do? “Now where the fuck do you live?

“South and 16th,” Natalia offered so you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself again, and she tangled her fingers in yours so you two could walk alongside each other. “She lives on South and 16th.”

From that day on, you’d walk with Natalia after dismissal, and you two would wait patiently for Nevada to come your way. This would go on until he finally graduated, and he’d call it ‘habit’- but sometimes he still came to escort you girls even after he was out of school. If he had time, or rather, if he had an excuse. He loved you girls.

\----

##  **First Sleepover After Father Left**

"Shhhh,” You hushed Natalia while you two snuck into your apartment. She nodded obediently, and pulled her lips in between her teeth. Your mother usually didn’t get home until an hour or so after you got there, but sometimes she surprised you. Nevada had stopped insisting you two walk with him once you graduated into third grade, and now you were in sixth. “You just gotta stay in my room until she leaves-”

Once inside, her nose scrunched in intense disapproval. The place was nothing like her own home; her mother set out fresh flowers, cleaned dishes after every meal, baked breads so there was a consistent scent of yeast and flour in the air. Not here- some candles on every table, dishes left on countertops and in the sink, the faint smell of spoiled something that probably should have been taken out instead of thrown into the trash. “You hungry? Thirsty?” You asked politely while she scowled. You weren’t offended. “I can make us somethin’.”

“No, no. I’m fine, baby-” Natalia hugged her purse to her chest. Your little home had fallen to disarray after your father left. Mami called it depression, and you thought you had read about it briefly in a history class. “You’re goin through a rough time, let’s just get to your room. We can read these magazines I got from Camilla.”

You smiled, and led her along to the best kept room in the whole apartment- yours.

-

Natalia went home later that night, after your mother came back at about two in the morning. It was easy to sneak out; you were too busy guiding the drunk woman towards the kitchen and offering to make her food, and she was too busy loathing in self-pity to notice a little shadow cross the halls. Between her howling and slamming her fists onto the countertops, Natalia couldn’t stomach staying, even though it felt almost criminal to leave you to handle the shit show.

Nevada had let her in, and she sat on the floor of his room in tears while explaining the awful things your mother said to you. The woman’s state of undress, how her words slurred, all the harsh names she called you.

He couldn’t stand it, especially when she begged him to go check on you. “Please, Vada, she needs you-”

Nevada really didn’t need any more convincing.

-

“Who is it?”

He easily recognized your voice, and retorted with his own familiar authority: “Open up.”

Obediently, you cracked the door open until the chain caught it. Your mother was muttering to herself in the other room, loud enough for the words to waft to the door. “What the fuck do you want?” You were whispering, so he crouched in order to appropriately hear you.

“Let me in,” he whispered back.

“I can’t, Mami’s home-”

“I know that,” Nevada rolled his eyes, he could barely make out what she was shouting about. “She won’t remember any of this, open the fuckin’ door.”

You unlocked the latch, you wanted help as much as you didn’t want to be in trouble- and he pushed himself through. He surveyed the apartment, and strolled right past you to investigate the scene Natalia had forewarned him about.

Your mother finally noticed him, but you weren’t too surprised. She always seemed to notice handsome men no matter what state she was in. A sadistic grin, one she must have thought was seductive, spread across her lips. “Oh and who are you?” Her eyes fell lazily onto your own, and she cocked her head to the side. “He with you?” You weren’t sure how to respond, so you didn’t.

Nevada could smell the booze on her breath, he knew it too well. Your mother was physically attractive, perhaps even beautiful if she wasn't so sloshed. You looked very much like her, it was notable. “I’m Nevada,” he answered bluntly before peering around at the unkempt place. These were the conditions you were living in? This was ridiculous. “And you should probably go to bed.” The telltale signs of drug use caught his eye, but he wouldn’t mention it. He didn’t know if you recognized what the paraphernalia was for.

Your mother flounced his way, and you wilted from embarrassment. Why did she have to be like this, now of all times? He narrowed his eyes while trying to keep tabs on where she slithered against him. Hell of a greeting.

“She has shit to do tomorrow,” he was unphazed even as she unblushingly went to drape herself over his shoulders. He was used to attention, he spent plenty of time in clubs to network- and plenty of cougars liked a young, pretty boy face. “School and shit,” he continued his argument even though it fell on deaf ears, she was fiddling with the buttons of his shirt and pouting her lips up at him. This was pathetic, is this what the women from the club did when they went home?

You thought you were going to get sick. “Vada, I’m just getting her somethin’ to eat first-” You tried to intervene so you hopefully wouldn’t have to watch your mother molest the poor guy. “She’ll get sick if she has an empty stomach.”

The way you talked about her, role reversal, it made him angry. That shouldn’t be your job or your problem- she should be tucking you into bed and worried about your homework. He roughly shoved at her frail shoulders when she tried to kiss his neck, sending the tipsy assailant tumbling over her own feet and over the sofa. She giggled from the floor and he rolled his eyes.

“Get up,” he grunted, pulling at her arms until she obediently rose to her feet. Nevada aimed her towards the hallway, and she giggled drunkenly when he put hands on her back to push her along. “ _Your Name_ , get your shit, you’re going with me.“

"Oh so you like 'em young?” Your mother leaned until she hit the wall of the hallway, and slid herself against his arm when he tried to right her footing. Nevada snarled, but she didn't care, evident by her hand trying to move from his shoulders and down his side. “Honey, I’ll take better care of you than a lil’ girl ever could-” wrong answer, right when her fingertips skimmed his belt.

The fact she could even consider such a thing, or not slap at him for actually thinking HE considered such a thing; it pissed him off. You were a child still, and she was a mess. What could anyone expect you to become when she was your role model, especially now that your father was gone. “You’re an old bat,” he yelled in her face and grabbed her wrists. Nevada was done playing nice. Literally, he drug her the rest of the way, until he gave a final heave and forced her to crash atop the large bed.

“Get your shit,” he repeated blindly, and peered into the rooms he passed until he found you trembling in yours. “You’re staying at our house, niñita, get your books and your uniform for tomorrow.” Knowingly, he gathered the dress shirt and skirt from over a nearby chair, and tossed them at you before snatching the red tie you had hanging from your headboard.

And so, as you’d eventually realize you’d always do- you bent to his will. You and Nevada packed a bag, and he carried it down the steps and across the blocks to his house while keeping your hand locked in his, and you’d sleep in Natalia’s bed and wake up early for school the next morning.

Your mother would come over to their place two days later. She’d speak politely to Nevada while offering condolences for her 'horrid behavior’. He’d suggest you stay at their place a little longer, so both you and your mother could get your heads in the right place- but you’d refuse. She needed you. He’d walk back with you, to the still filthy apartment, carrying your suitcase with the silent stoicism he was known for.

One day, he promised to himself; one day he’d be your hero. He’d save you from this shit, and he’d take care of you. If your father wouldn’t, if your mother couldn’t- Nevada would.

\----

##  **First Boyfriend**

“What are you so giggly about?” Nevada had taken you two with him to the bodega after you got out of school, which took plenty of begging on your parts. “You keep whispering and 'he-he-he'ing,” a curious eyebrow rose when he noticed you blush.

Natalia had been dying to tell someone and this was the perfect opportunity: “ _Your Name_ finally has a BOYFRIEND!” She squealed, and you slightly wished you could disappear.

Your first boyfriend, in Sophmore year. About time. A boy two grades older than you; he played baseball on the weekends and spent the afternoons strumming a guitar in his garage and nursing a glass pipe. You liked sitting on the floor and listening to his music, you liked the wine coolers his older brother bought for you. He’d put his hand on your knee when he drove you around in his father’s car, and he told the other boys in the locker room that you were a ‘great kisser’.

“Who?” Nevada asked nosily, as if he’d actually know any of the high schoolers.

“Danny,” you replied dreamily, and Natalia teasingly pointed out the 'danny & _your name_ ’ printed in black ink on your notepad. You slapped at her hand and chose a couple lollipops from the candy aisle.

How cute; Nevada thought he was going to puke. “Daaannyyyy?” He emphasized the vowels, mocking how prep-school it sounded. He scoffed- you would find yourself some lil boy named some shit like that. Your nose crunched when he said his name, it didn’t sound so sweet on his tongue. “Danny whooo?”

“Jenkins,” Natalia answered for you while snatching a snack for herself. “Daniel Jenkins; he’s a nice boy, Nevada.” She patted reassuringly on his jacket.

He paused. Jenkins? “Jenkins?” Nevada sat his items before the cashier, and tapped at the counter until you girls threw yours up with them. The name rang a bell. “He got a hermano?”

You tried to avoid answering; you didn’t really want Nevada involved in the budding romance so early. He had a tendency of complicating… well, most everything. So instead, you rolled up on tiptoes and pecked a kiss on his jaw in thanks for buying your suckers. He rolled his eyes and rubbed at the spot you hit with his thumb, wiping off the pink lip gloss you had left behind.

If you wouldn’t indulge him, he knew who would. “Naaataaliiaaaa,” he tossed the chocolate covered cranberries her way to get her attention. “Danny got a brother?” She loved to talk, there was no stopping her from spreading gossip or admitting to nearly anything.

Natalia bobbed her head, apparently missing your hesitation. “Yea, he’s old though.” That evoked an eye roll from Nevada. He definitely knew a Jenkins, and Jenkins was younger than he was.

“He’s not old,” he spat grumpily. “I’ve worked with him.” Well, Jenkins had worked FOR him, but that was beside the point. “When am I gonna meet lil’ Danny?” He taunted you by bending at the waist so he spoke directly in your ear, his hot breath made you jump.

You raised your eyebrow, that wasn’t what you were expecting. You bought some time by fidgeting with the wrapper for your lollipop, until Nevada snatched it away from you and undid the plastic himself. Now you had no excuse. “Why would you?”

He handed your candy back, as if you were five instead of fifteen, and poked at your forehead with his finger. “I gotta like 'im, you think I’ll let just anyone get up your skir-”

Defiantly, before he could even finish such a crude statement, you stomped on his foot. He took in a sharp breath of air before shoving at you until you nearly hit the wall. “Nobody’s gettin’ up my skirt, don’t say shit like that.” You weren’t easy, he could shove it. “I’m still a pure lil’ flower so kick rocks with that junk.”

Nevada laughed, but reeled himself in quickly when he thought over your statement. It was oddly reassuring, he liked having that little bit of knowledge in the back of his brain- you were still a virgin. How does anyone last that long in this city? He didn’t know; he was younger than you were now, back when he first lay with a sweet older girl on her parent’s couch. But you managed. And he adored it.

“Awe, I’m jokin’ with you,” He pulled at your arm, which held the lollipop you stubbornly refused to pull from your lips. Your excuse for remaining silent. “C'mon, I just wanna meet him,” fingers curled around your elbow the best they could, “Gotta know who’s makin’ my niñita all giggly.”

You softened, and rest your temple against his leather jacket while trying to hide your smile around your mouthful of candy. It was nice to know he cared, even if it was in his own fucked up way.

“Let’s invite him over for dinner one night, you and him can both come, Mami would love it-” Natalia decided for you all, proudly bobbing her head up and down in self approval. “You can make those cupcakes you made the other night, those little pie ones.”

“Those were mini apple pies, Natalia-” thank goodness you were the chef of the group. That girl, though you loved her so, couldn’t find her way through a cookbook if she tried. “They weren’t cupcakes at all, I just used the cupcake tins…”

Nevada took advantage of you expressing your useless knowledge by slipping his hold from your elbow to your wrist, and shamelessly lifting your arm so he could pop the lollipop in his own mouth. You whined, but didn’t dare let go, knowing he’d keep it if you let him. With three fingers, you jabbed his side, and he flinched while chuckling.

“You’re fuckin’ rude, Nevada-” You chastised while putting the treat cautiously against your tongue. You grimaced, and moaned in disappointment. “It tastes like cigars now, Nevada, you ruined it.”

He fluffed your hair and you pushed him off of you, while Natalia giggled and hooked her arm in yours. Nevada really didn’t care how you felt about sharing the candy he bought you; because when he licked his lips, he could taste both the strawberry of your candy and the cherry of your lip gloss. It was perfect, and it was his- even if you were now some Danny kid’s.

Nah, scratch that shit. You’d always be his Niñita.

\----

##  **First Time Feeling Nevada’s Knuckles**

He hadn’t expected that phone call. You hadn’t been expecting him. 

Well, of course, he was never expected- he just was: everywhere. If not him, then his eyes were. Nevada had apparently been looking for something in Natalia’s room; he had endless permission to rift through her things. She never really cared, what was hers was his, but lately you’ve been keeping your things in her room as well.

That’s probably where he found the little business cards that were thrown at your face. He only knew they were there because an associate of his had recognized you in a place you definitely shouldn’t have been.

“ARE YOU FUCKING LOCA?” He was mad, he’d never been this upset with you before. “WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO THESE PEOPLE?” You cringed, you hadn’t really even read into the names much, and you were more interested in the promises written out in ink on the blank sides.

“Which one?” You feigned naivety; “They’re nice men, Vada, they were really nice to me.”

His eyes went wide- of fucking course they were, they owned a strip club. “No, they aren’t, you’re just foolish” You were trying to get back on your feet, but he wouldn’t let you, and pushed at your shoulder each time to tried to rock up. “What the fuck are you doing talking to them?” He picked up two of the ones you had kept separate, the ones you liked the best. “What are you doing going into strip clubs and taking business cards?”

This really didn’t seem like his business. “I’m eighteen, Nevada, stop trying to act like my father.”

“Someone fucking has to.” One of his fists went to your hair, and you winced as he grabbed a handful of your tresses. Methodically, he aimed your face at the card he was holding up. “What the fuck does that say, Niñita? What the fuck does that say?”

You spat at his shoes: “Girls, girls, gir-” That wasn’t what he meant. Nevada tugged, hard, raising your chin so you’d have to look into his face.

“Nooooooo-” He swatted at your nose and made you whimper, before shifting your gaze back to the card. “What did your nice man write, niñita?” His hatred for repeating himself was evident: “What the fuck does it say?”

You wouldn’t try to sass him again, not this moment; “Amateur Night,” you started to tear up as you read the offense, your confession, “Two hundred dollars-”

He didn’t really kick you, that would have hurt, but he did ram his leg into your side hard enough to topple you over. “You are not going to fucking strip at a goddamn club.”

“They’re nice girls,” you went to the defense, but it was thrown out the window when he nodded. Now what?

“They ARE nice girls,” Nevada had no qualms with the girls, this wasn’t about them. He had no problems with strippers, or with prostitutes- they did what they needed to do to get ahead and they certainly managed. Those women found a market and took over; he wouldn’t ever say they were bad girls. Hell, he’s debated working with them, but that wasn’t concrete yet. “YOU are not going to strip, though,” the thought of you on that stage twisted his insides, made him ill. This wasn’t about the girls, this was about the men, and he did not want those men looking at you.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief; he went to strip clubs. That’s how you knew which the good ones were. Hypocrisy didn’t look good on him, he drooled over those girls all the time and brought them home- he’d take care of them. You wanted to be taken care of, too. “Oh fine, so I’m not good enough?” He stomped his foot near your leg and made you flinch. “There was an old man there with a nice tie and a pocket watch who said he’d give me a grand for a lil’ consistent fun,” He froze and you crudely stuck your tongue out while defiantly hopping up to your knees and wriggling your hips. Symbolism in your eyes, Hell for his. “Maybe I’ll just get his business card next time, and then I’ll move and never have to see your ugly mug agai-”

Nevada wasn’t sure what snapped in his brain. Was it knowing you had sauntered into a strip club and had the bravado to ask how much they’d pay you to lose your clothes? Was it imagining a rich man audaciously whispering monetary promises in your ear while you toyed with the gold chain hanging out of his chest pocket? Was it possibly seeing you on your knees, tongue out like a slut- if you were any other girl being a smartass and taunting like you were, he’d have treated you like any other man as cruel as him would, and took full advantage. Knowing anyone could even think of doing that to you absolutely enraged him, and he would not let you get in a position like that anywhere else.

And his hand came down. He slapped you across your pretty pink cheek- hard. Hard enough to make you fall to the wood floors. Hard enough to make your head hit the ground and your mind go dizzy. Hard enough so you felt the sting even after you finally caught your breath. The crack of his knuckles on your skin was only drowned out by your yelp.

You cried, and when he crouched to grab for you- you tried to slide yourself away. He wouldn’t let you get too far, though, and drug you back to him after snatching a hold of your ankle. Nevada curled around you, and you couldn’t fight him. It was no use. His ten years on you were more than your lithe frame could overcome, and so after a few minutes of twisting and struggling, you surrendered. It would be better not to incline him to use more force.

“If you need money, you come to me.” Nevada insisted, a hand on your chest keeping you pinned against him so he could rest his cheek against your hair and immobilize you shoulder-up. His other arm stay stern around your waist, and his legs lay tangled atop of yours. You literally couldn’t move; you were enveloped in him, caught under his pressure. Trapped like a damn rat. “I got you, you don’t ever fucking do that shit.” His arms tightened everywhere he touched you when he spoke, and it made you afraid, you thought of all the inches of skin that would bruise after this exchange. “Tu entiendes?”

“Yes, Nevada,” you recited obediently, nodding the best you could despite how he stubbornly held you still. You’d agree to anything to get out of this. “Si, Nevada, si-”

“You ever talk to any of those men again; they’ll regret it as much as you will.” His breath fell heavy over you, like hot lava pouring down your throat and shoulder. It terrified you. He had used harsh words on you before, but the actual threat was new. “You ever take money for any shit like that, and I swear to God, nin-”

“No, Nevada, I won’t, I was foolish,” your tears were back, and he softened just slightly. “I promise, Vada, I’m sorry,” You managed to twist just enough to plant a multitude of silky soft, innocent kisses on his cheek and jaw line. It was hard to keep from shivering. You were just trying to calm him down, trying to make him happy. He wilted. “Never ever, I promise Nevada.”

At that, he quickly released his hold and gave you a firm push at your back. You leaned forward, and covered your face with your hands, wondering absently if there was an imprint of his fingers left behind. How would you explain that? Nevada snagged up all the cards he had thrown at you, and meticulously went to studying the names. He left you on the floor, and slid your little collection of possible employers into his back pocket.

He had some people he needed to talk to, and you’ve just provided the to-do list.

You’d never debate working at a club, or with those rich men, again. No worries, though- because they’d never talk to you again. And that man with the nice tie and the pocket watch wouldn’t go to strip clubs in The Heights anymore, not after having to explain to his wife how he got the bloodied nose and ring imprints under his eyes.


	3. High School Prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Anonymous Asked](http://ohbelieveyoume.tumblr.com/post/152380823172/p-sure-its-obvious-you-need-to-write-something):  
>  P sure its obvious you need to write something about the dance Nevada took Ninita to!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _:* :* :* Thank you so much for the love, dear! Here’s what I’ve got for you, hopefully you like it! I really, sincerely love all the Niñita love lol:_

“ _Your Name_ , please don’t cry.” Natalia wiped at your eyes, and kissed your rosy cheeks in hopes to calm you down. “Mami’s got an idea, don’t you worry. You look so pretty, baby, don’t be sad.” She stood diligently between your legs, cupping your face in her hands, as you sat in your self pity atop the counter in the kitchen. 

“I won’t go without you, if anything we can just tell David to fuck off,” you suddenly felt even more sorry for her poor date. She had been asked to go by nearly every boy in school, Natalia had always been the more popular one of the two of you. Yet here you were, unable to get your date to even speak to you. “We can go together, _Your Name_ , we’ll still have fun.” She bobbed your head so you’d be forced to nod along with her. “I love you baby, please don’t cry. He’s a stupid boy anyway, we’ll find you a better boy.”

Easy for her to say.

–

After a good half hour of you wailing, Mama Ramirez had gone to who she always goes to in hopes of fixing a problem.

Poor, poor Nevada.

“They won’t even let me in,” She couldn’t possibly be serious. It was a high school dance, even Natalia’s secret beau couldn’t attend because he was nineteen and graduated. “I’m way too old.”

“We both know nobody will refuse to let you in-” She chastised roughly, swatting at his shoulder before he leaned dramatically away from her. “You just donated all that money for their new scholarship program.”

Nevada rolled his eyes. He had donated that money to help the schools, the kids from the neighborhood he loves, to keep up the new sports program that had started. “Ma, I have shit to do.” He hadn’t given them money so he could circumvent any rules.

His mother crossed her arms over her chest, and rocked her head towards the direction of your whimpering. “You really gonna let her cry like that?” He winced as she went on, "She respects you so much, Nevada, you can't let her be sad like this..."

They were in his room; well, the room reserved for him whenever he did come home. The whole apartment could basically be considered Nevada’s. He paid the bills, after all, but that was neither here nor there. Mama Ramirez always ruled. The walls were still paper thin and he could hear you from his spot on his bed. It was like nails on a chalkboard, and he was trying to leave.

“I raised you bett-”

“Mami,” He tried to reason with her, bring her back to his side. “You’d beat me black and blue if I ever took a fifteen year old out.” Nevada smirked knowingly and she again swatted at the back of his head with her hand.

“Mijo, you know she’s different.” Mama Ramirez wouldn't let him twist this or change the subject. “You know better.”

He groaned, and covered his face with his hands. “Can’t she just go stag? Guys do it.”

His mother shook her head sullenly. “She doesn’t want to, Nevada, please.” Perhaps she could pull at a different heart string, everyone knew how he adored his sisters. “Natalia won’t go if she doesn’t.”

Camilla helped herself in, slamming the bedroom door behind her. Smart and sharp Camilla, a beauty like the others but with a tongue that could slit you open and leave you irreparable. She was the oldest of the sisters, just two years shy of Nevada. “Mami, she’s inconsolable, has he agreed yet?” Apparently they had all decided this without him.

“Why am I the one who has to take her?” He grunted, and rose to his feet. No need to be polite to Camilla, it was his mother he respected. Camilla would be okay, she could spit venom as well as she could take it. “There have to be boys who will take her, it's not like she's a beast.”

Camilla scoffed, and threw a towel she had been holding at him. “Besides the three who’ve gotten their teeth kicked in by you?” She asked incredulously. All three of his sisters knew how protective he was of you- all of you girls benefited from his watchful eyes. “C'mon, Vada, you know it’s your fault anyways.” She ducked when he balled up the hand towel and tossed it back at her face.

“It’s not my fault!” He held his hands to his chest in defense. “She just comes up all teary, tells me all her fuckin’ problems,” Pseudo-true, he typically interrogated you or his sisters when he knew you were sad. Especially if you were at the point of being 'teary'. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t just let boys treat my girls like that- I’d never let anyone do that to you.” He shook a finger in Camilla’s face and she shoved his hand away from her.

In bound the middle sister, sweet Valentina. Precious, precocious Valentina- the apple of their father’s eye and the sunshine in any room. “Mami,” she whispered cautiously, until she noticed her other two siblings already speaking much louder. “Mami, Natalia’s date is here and she won’t let him in.” Even though she was older, Valentina was the peach of the family; easily bruised. She couldn't handle arguing with sharp witted Natalia.

“Ay,” Their mother whisked herself away, holding a hand up when Nevada offered to go gather the poor boy. He’d be left at the mercy of his sisters. Goddamnit.

After Mama Ramirez took her leave, the girls jumped at the opportunity to confront their dear brother. “Nevada, are you really not going to go?” Valentina went to him, taking his hands in hers to try and appeal to him. It was so hard to watch her wilt in disappointment. “It’s one night, Vada, you know you can spare a few hours.” She shook their bundles of fingers and fists between them, forcing his full attention to fall on her.

“It’s over at nine, they’re kids-” Camilla joined her sister, providing a backbone and standing behind her so both pairs of eyes were stuck on him. “You just bring her back here and you can go out, take a flask with you.” She shrugged, placing her hands on Valentina’s shoulders “It’s not like _Your Name_ is awful company or anything, you might actually have fun.” She smiled, but Nevada wanted to wipe it off her face. There's no way he'd be able to convince her to take some little boy to a high school dance.

“You really want her to sit and cry all night?” Valentina again, he was feeling overwhelmed with all this attention. Nevada could handle guns aimed at him, or threats from men with twice his years and tenfold his influence. But his sisters were fucking relentless. “You know she’s just gonna sniffle in Natalia’s room until she gets home, you can’t do that to her.” She shook her head, and her dark tresses fell over her sister’s hands. “She looks up to you so much, why can’t you be her hero right now?”

That didn't settle well with him, he was always your fucking hero. Even when you didn’t want him to be. Why did he have to prove it at every beckoning? “I need a goddamn drink-” Nevada tore his hands from Valentina’s, and barged past the two girls hard enough to nearly knock Camilla off her feet. They chattered after him, voices blending together and lowering to hushes once they were out of the confines of his room. They didn’t want to embarrass you, to let you know they were trying to conjure you a date.

You were sat in the kitchen, still on a counter top- sniffling and wiping at your own face. Natalia and her mother were arguing by the front door, leaving you alone to try and regain composure. Nevada froze the moment he noticed you, and tried to maintain the annoyance that was obvious on his face. It was hard for him not to react to your tears. However, you were in the way, and he wouldn't be able to get to his drink without confronting you.

“Stop whining,” he suggested bluntly, and his sisters turned away to go assist their mother with her argument against Natalia. You didn’t have any quips, nothing smart to say back like you typically did. “You look like a baby when you cry.” The taunt was made in hopes to get you to laugh, or to re-focus your anger at least. He'd rather you be mad at him than sad with yourself. It didn’t work.

“Not now, please.” You whimpered, dropping your face into your palms. “I can’t take it now, Nevada, please.” Your tears stained the crimson silk that had bunched in your lap.

His lip twitched, and he reached around you to get to the cabinet with the shot glasses. Nevada pulled out two, and clunk them down beside you loud enough for the noise to make you jump. “Okay, you don’t look like a baby.” That was as good of an apology as you’d likely get, so you accepted it graciously. After procuring a bottle of tequila from a drawer to the left of your seat, he poured two shots- one a double, the other a half.

“Drink,” he ordered, handing over the miniature shot to you once you finally raised your face to look at him. Typically, you wouldn’t, but you were sad. Booze sounded nice. Nevada took his without flinching, just a tight clench of his jaw after the last drop was swallowed. You hesitated, then considered again how silly you felt crying your eyes out in your slinky, silky dress- and so you chugged the clear liquor in a swift sip.

Your nose crunched, and you made a slight squeaking noise when the warmness came after the initial bite. Nevada laughed aloud, patting at your cheek with his hand once he was confident you had swallowed it all. “Want another?” He asked teasingly, and you rapidly shook your head in denial. You certainly did not want another shot, not that moment.

“Pussy,” Nevada poured himself a second, and drank it just as fast as he had the first. Now that you were at least not crying anymore, he felt more comfortable, and gave a tug at the dress you wore. “You look cute in red, you should try it more often.” If his jokes couldn’t help, maybe a compliment? Girls were weird, he never really knew how to cheer them up. But he’s had plenty of trial and errors with you and his sisters. "Where'd you even find that thing?" He chuckled while toying with the thin straps on your shoulders. "You look like a lounge singer."

You slapped his fingers away from the silk, not in the mood for him to poke and pull at you. “Too bad you’re the only one who thinks so.” You whined pathetically, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. He squint, what’s wrong with him being the only one who thinks so? “Stupid Johnny wouldn’t even answer my calls, he was supposed to be here an hour ago.” You looked up to confirm he was listening and you weren’t speaking to the air; apparently he was, considering how those green eyes were glued on you. “His mom said he already left with his GIRLFRIEND, Nevada.” Tears, again. He winced at your emphasis on ‘girlfriend’. The kid sounds like a jerk, who cares what he thinks, or who he's going to the dance with? “He has a fucking girlfriend.”

“Johnny who?” Nevada asked nosily, pouring two more shots. Another half, and a single for him. Maybe he’d need to slow down, keep his wits about him. “That little fucker you brought over when you and Natalia needed grass?” He remembered that boy- he called Nevada 'sir’ and actually blushed when you held his hand before leaving. Wimp.

“He’s not little,” you protested initially, until considering how all of you were little compared to Nevada. “But yea, the blonde.” You nodded forlornly, and your voice hitched; “He seemed so sweet.”

Nevada cackled, handing up the half shot. "You and those sweet boys; boys aren't sweet, Niñita." His hip leaned against the counter top you sat on, just to the left of you. "If they say they are, they're lying." He put a hand on your leg over your dress after you took the glass. “Johnny, what was it?” You took your shot without any need for prompting, and he smiled at your bravado.

“Smith.” You mumbled after cringing through the aftertaste of your drink.

Noted. Nevada nodded slowly before prodding under your chin to raise your face up so you’d look at him instead of down at your hands. “C'mon, it’s a dance, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Everyone’s going.” You whined, tears falling down your eyes until they streamed over your jaw and reached his fingers. “I’ll be the only one not going and I can’t go alone because that’s embarrassing." You tried to lower your chin, but his fingertip in the soft part under your face kept you from doing so. It was torture for both of you- he was forced to feel your tears on his hand while you had to look him in the eyes. "I did that in middle school.”

Nevada finally faltered, and his cocky grin turned down as he watched you cry. He used the hand not holding your face up to wipe at your tears, only for more to spark. He couldn't fix this, apparently. It hurt him to see you so upset, in an odd place that tweaked at his heart just wrong. Almost made him feel sick; or like he was a mirror. He couldn’t help but get sad when you were.

“I’m just a silly, stupid, ugly girl.” You cried while sniffling, not even caring whether he thought you were being 'whiny’ or not. Maybe that second shot wasn’t a good idea, some girls got weepy on Tequila- apparently you were one of them.

“Stooooooop,” Nevada grumped, moving his hand from your chin so he could take the last shot he had poured. He threw both the glasses in the sink, you were worried they had shattered considering how hard they were tossed. Groaning, he leaned down, until he could rest his head on your shoulder and brace himself with hands on either side of your lap against the counter top's rounded edge. He hid his eyes into the soft part of your neck as he contemplated, and inhaled the rosy scent of the cheap perfume you always wore. "You're spoiled, you know that?" You could barely understand him, since his face was buried in your skin. His ears couldn’t handle your self deprecation. You were confused, enough so to cease your crying, and you held onto his arm that went over you so you could stay sat up against his pressure.

“Vada, why are you whining now?” There wasn’t enough sadness in the world for both of you to be distraught. You two always tried to comfort the other, you both couldn’t be the downtrodden one. He grunted again, raising his head from your shoulder and placing a hand on your right cheek so he could tug you his way and place a kiss on your left.

Nevada had come to a decision. “Stop fucking crying, get the fuck down.” He yanked at your wrists, literally causing you to tumble off the counter and fall to the kitchen floor with a sharp 'ping’ caused by your heels. “I gotta find a different fucking shirt,” A shirt? Why? You followed obediently despite your confusion. “This is stupid.” Nevada dragged you along by your hand, bringing you to the front door where the women in his life were bickering over Natalia refusing to let her poor date in.

“SHUUUT UUUP!” Nevada shouted, loud enough to silence all four Ramirezs by the door. He scooted you forward, giving a gruff shove on your shoulders and nearly causing you to fall on your face before Valentina benevolently caught you in your arms. “Get her cleaned up, and let the poor kid inside- you all are gonna scare him away." He motioned to the door with a wide hand, and Camilla went to the door at his direction. "I gotta change my fucking shirt.”

“He’s fine, he ain’t scared,” Natalia hissed before going to hug you to her chest. Of the girls, Natalia was the boldest- always more than willing to argue with her big brother. “And I’m not going if _Your Name_ isn’t going so he can either wait or go the fuck home.” She kissed at your curls and ran her hands along your bare arms. Oh, Natalia- loyal to every fault and to his immense annoyance. You leaned against her, wrapping arms around her waist as she coddled you.

“She’s fucking going,” Nevada shouted from the other room, leaving all of his sisters to open their eyes wide. “I just need a different shirt.”

Nobody had let you in on their plan, but now seemed as good a time as any to question is sudden issues with his attire. “Why do you need a different shirt?” You asked, naively, while Camilla quickly went to get her makeup collection so she could calm the red in your cheeks and fix the eyeshadow she had already so carefully applied for you.

“Because you’re wearing red, Niñita.” He was still yelling, which would normally put you on edge- but this time it brought your smile back in full shine. “And this shirt is purple, it doesn’t match." Your hands flew to your face, he wanted to match you. You glanced up to Natalia, who cheered and kissed your cheeks. Apparently you wouldn't be going alone. "I need a tie!” Nevada shouted to anyone who would listen, and you vibrantly followed after Camilla so she could fix your makeup.

“Your papi has one!” Mama Ramirez wasted no time scurrying off to her room to find a maroon tie, and proudly came back to meet her son in the living room. “You’re such a sweet boy, Nevada," she praised him abundantly, "Estoy muy orgullosa de ti, mi mijo.” She mumbled her praises while expertly looping the tie around his neck once he came out in a black shirt. She kissed his cheek, leaving pink lipstick behind, and he moaned while working to wipe it away.

Nevada just didn’t want you to wallow in your self pity any more. Or whine.  
He thought way too highly of you to let you do that. 

And he needed to figure out who knew where little Johnny fuckin' Smith lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I just really love the idea of Nevada growing up surrounded by women he had to respect I can't help it. And yes "reader"/Niñita is a cry baby, most of my readers prolly know that by now. Big hearts = big tears._


	4. Nevada Takes Niñita to Prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My darling, sweet, and oh-so consistent reader ( & wonderful, amazing, perfect queen of all Spanish I butcher in my writings) had mentioned on my last Niñita story how she wanted to know what happened at the dance that Nevada was bullied into taking Niñita to… Jo, my darling and helpful love, [this one is for you](http://ohbelieveyoume.tumblr.com/post/152488647957/side-fic-dont-call-me-that-nevada)~~_

… “Mr. Ramirez?”

The school counselor perked an eyebrow at your apparent date, who stood awkwardly alongside you with your arm laced through his.

“Si.” Simple response for a simple question.

“Uhm, Mr. Ramirez,” he glanced down to his list of students. Natalia had checked in before you, which meant the only Ramirez they had planned on arriving was now off the list. “We, uh, weren’t expecting you.”

“Me neither,” he reached forward, flipping the pages until he stumbled upon your last name. Upon finding the letters in ink, he tapped rapidly at the box beside it reserved for checking. “She’s here.” Nevada poked at your temple hard enough to make your head bob, and the poor assistant at the table groaned.

“I see that,” the counselor marked off your name without further questioning, before hesitantly leaning forward. “Mr. Ramirez, I’m sure you’re well aware of our age policies…”

Nevada grunted, before unabashedly reaching across the table to pluck the pin he wore off his jacket. He had made it this far, he certainly wasn’t turning back now. ‘Chaperone’, the button read, and Nevada let go of your arm just long enough to clip it onto his shirt. “Si.”

Well, that would have to work. The counselor didn’t waste any more of your time, and motioned simply towards the doors where Natalia was patiently waiting for you. “Enjoy your evening, you two.” He’d rather not ask questions, or rather- he’d rather not have to.

—

Most of the evening consisted of you dancing with Natalia, or an assortment of your other girl friends. He had assumed as much, and wasn’t particularly disappointed. Plenty of time for him to sit at the table you and Natalia had claimed with your shrugs and purses. What exactly did girls have to carry around that demanded so much space? You two had hardly even touched the bags all night. Why did he care? Because that was much more interesting than the other attendees.

Between glasses of punch, spiked with the tequila from a flask he brought along, and giggles from miscellaneous underage girls swaying their skirts and ‘subtly’ pointing his way- Nevada managed to keep a close tab on you. You were enjoying yourself, dancing to the censored pop songs and flitting about the floor like a social butterfly. He’d have something to worry about once you were older, he decided absently. If you had this much fun at a high school jaunt, you’d be trouble on a club’s dance floor.

About an hour into the evening after you had left him to dance with ‘your girls’, while he was reading through some pamphlets distributed among the tables, Nevada was interrupted by hands covering his eyes. “Guess who!” He smiled, it wasn’t exactly difficult to recognize your voice.

“Sonia?” He cooed loudly, switching your smile to a frown while reaching up to wrap his fingers around your your wrists. “Tanya? Loraine?” After the third random female name, you jerked back to swat at the back of his head, and he cursed before turning in his chair to face you. “Oh, it’s only you… damn.” He pouted to feign disappointment

“Shove it, Nevada,” You chastised before taking the opportunity to sit in his lap. He flinched just a moment, keeping hands high until you decided on a comfortable position. “Are you at least having a little fun?” You rest your forehead against his, and poked at his nose with your fingertip. He mocked you by doing the same.

“Yes, a little bit,” He handed up his punch, and laughed when you recoiled upon realizing there was tequila mixed in. Hesitantly, he dropped his arms onto your legs, and leaned against your shoulder. “Are you having fun, your highnessssss?” Since he had your attention for the what felt like the first time that night, he scanned the floor and brought up his much more important question: “Where’s that Johnny kid?”

“Over there;” You obliged his nosiness by boldly pointing across the floor, to a young man with blonde hair and a baby blue suit. Nevada laughed raucously, loudly, and drew attention until you cupped his face in your hands so you could shield his mouth in the skin of your chest. He inhaled to take advantage of your proximity and sweet scent. “Be nice, Vada, hush-” it was hard to give him a hard time over your own giggling.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” He pulled out of your embrace so he could take another look. Poor kid, looking like a Ken doll and on the arm of a girl in pink tulle chatting away with young ladies at a different table. This was absolutely fantastic. “Niñita, c’mon, I’m bored,” He stood so quickly, you fell from his lap, but he joyously yanked at your arms until you stood once more. “Let’s dance, show these kids how to really get moving.”

—

The slow song had started while you two were laughing at Natalia’s poor attempts to socialize with the other prom queen contestants. She was beautiful, for sure- but modesty had never been her blessing. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad, though; your best friend would be crowned the most beautiful girl in school, and you were staring forlornly across the dance floor at Johnny and his girlfriend while resting your face against your date’s tie.

“You’re way prettier than her,” Nevada whispered in your ear, criticizing the girl who you had been comparing yourself to all night. All you wanted to know was why Johnny took her instead of you, what you lacked- but Nevada had been tearing the girl apart. Apparently you were being obvious. You bit your lip and quickly hid your face in his shirt so nobody could see you laughing. “She looks funny, all gangly.” He added condescendingly, and tried his best to keep his voice down despite his laughter. “And she can’t dance as well as you, she’s stepped on his shoes twice.”

“Then why are you paying so much attention to her?” You managed through your giggling. He narrowed his stare, and bumped his shoulder so you’d have to stop hiding in his chest. He could have asked you the same, but he didn’t want to embarrass you. Not any further, at least.

“Because she’s the whole reason I’m fuckin’ here,” he stuck his tongue out at you childishly, and you hit your palm against his chest to chastise him. “He’d have had way more fun with you,” Nevada nodded knowingly, and carefully dropped his hands to your waist. “Hell, I’m having fun with you, and I didn’t even want to fucking come.”

“Thank you for doing this,” You finally conceded, moving so you could lace your fingers behind his neck. It was the slowest song of the evening, they’d be announcing the queen and king soon. “I really appreciate it, I know you have tons of better shit to do-”

Nevada rolled his eyes, and poked at your lips with his fingertip. “Shut up, you talk too fuckin’ much.” He mumbled, not wanting to get all sentimental with ‘thank you’s and 'your welcome’s. His forehead found yours, and he hummed along with the song playing. You didn’t know it, it was an older song compared to the more modern hits they’d played all night, but apparently he did. Finally, you managed to pull your attention off of your failed quest for Johnny, and you took a moment to actually appreciate the man you had in your arms.

“You really are great, Nevada,” you whispered while leaning against him, and he kissed your head over your hair in response. “You’re the greatest man I know.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever complimented him, and it could have been the dim lights or the crimson silk sliding against his palms- but it was certainly the first time he ever really thought you meant it. He smiled despite himself, and respectfully put space between you two when the music switched up. They’d be announcing the queen and king soon.

“I’m gonna go smoke a spliff,” he whispered in your ear, and you nodded in understanding as his warm breath fell over you. “Meet me outside after Natalia gets off her high horse, a’ight?” He held onto your chin, and nodded you along. Likely, she’d win, and once she did- you’d be back to celebrating with her instead of slow dancing with him. Nevada would much rather go smoke than stare at your purses for another hour.

“Okay, Nevada.” You agreed sadly, and stood on toes to place a firm kiss on his cheek. You lingered, and he let you, even involuntarily blushing when your soft lips plumped against his skin. Without much else as a goodbye, he left, and you turned your attention towards the stage as your science teacher made his announcement: “And without further hesitation, it is my pleasure to announce our queen for the evening: Miss Natalia Ramirez!”

—

There was someone selling single roses outside the gymnasium. Nevada had bought four on his way out to the courtyard. One for Natalia, since it was no question that she’d win the crown; three for you, your lucky number. He had called you girls silly when you two decided on such a trite thing: a lucky number. But he never forgot yours. In fact, he’d plan on it- if he ever had you do a favor, he’d tell his comrades to wait for three knocks. It was you, and he knew you so well.

The cigarette didn’t take long, but the second and third managed to overcome the gap in time between his departure and the students being released. Apparently the royal announcement marked the beginning of the end of the dance. He waited expectantly, roses laid across his lap, for you girls to wander out of the doors.

To his surprise, Natalia came first, flinging her hands into the air in celebration as her brother jumped down from his seat to catch her in a flying embrace. “Like you need any boosts to your fuckin’ ego-” Nevada teased, kissing her cheeks as she flipped her hair over her shoulders, careful not to disturb the cheap crown adorning her head.

“These guys have good taste,” She immodestly curtsied and waved as if she were on a parade float. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here, I wanna smoke and get something to drink, can we get vodka on the way back-” Natalia went on rambling, even looping her arm in his to start dragging him to the car. “Are those roses? Why’d you buy those?”

Nevada raised an eyebrow, pausing in his steps to force her to stop walking. “Where’s _Your Name_?” He asked curiously, not even justifying the question about the roses as he searched. She roared with laughter, and rolled her eyes at him.

“Stop pretending to be so concerned, you’re off the hook now.” Natalia gave a rough tug and pulled him along to the parking lot. “Her and Johnny got to talking after his little puta ditched him, second place still finishes the race.” She wiggled her fingers in the air, but for some reason his stomach lurched. “He was all fussy so she comforted him, he’s giving her a ride home.” His smile faded, he couldn’t even fake a grin if he wanted to. “I know Mami harassed you about it, so now you don’t have to worry. You’re such a great guy, Nevada, really, I’m proud of you-”

The nail in the coffin was when he finally saw the shimmer of your silk dress in the moon light, accompanied by the shine of a baby blue suit. The boy didn’t hold your hand, didn’t offer you his suit jacket as you shivered in the night air, barely even looked as if he was waiting for you as you clattered behind him in your heels. Why did he care so much? Nevada wasn’t sure- but what he did know was that he had never wanted to strangle a boy for not knowing how to be a gentleman before. That is, he hadn’t had the urge until he watched you get your ass swatted at immaturely before you were left to open your own car door and tumble your way into the passenger seat. He had the oddest itch in his chest, as if something snapped or was on the verge of breaking, a weird ache that he had never experienced before.

“Nevada?” Natalia noticed his silence, and reached up to grab his chin when she saw him gazing off in a certain direction. She followed where his face pointed, until she saw you and Johnny bickering in a parked car a few yards away. The windows of the car were down, and she briefly saw him raise his arms in exasperation before you wilted back into the passenger seat. “Vada, she’ll be okay, don’t worry about her. You’ve done enough tonigh-” She was roughly interrupted when he shoved the four roses in her face.

“Congratulation, prom queen.” He grumbled, though his tone made the words feel more than cheap. Nevada would be fucking damned if he ever admitted it- but he wished he hadn’t left for the cigarette. Why did he leave for that fucking cigarette? He wished he had stayed at your side when his sister won her crown, he wished he had danced with you while you sashayed across the room instead of waited outside, he wished he could have held you against him to keep you warm, he wished he had been able to escort you to his car and drive you home, he wished he could have had his hand on your knee during the ride through the dark streets so he could remind you how stunning you looked all evening and watch you smile, he wished-

“Oh thank you Vada!” Natalia wrapped her arms around him and innocently kissed his jaw, he held her up with an arm smartly coiled around her. “You’re the best brother ever, I love you Nevada.”

“I love you too, Natalia.” He forced himself to chuckle, and sniffed awkwardly, thankful for the dark night so he could choke back any of those pussy tears that tried to fall. He’d never worry about this again, he decided. “Let’s go get some vodka, we’re gonna fucking celebrate.” Nevada shouted his cheer into the night, and victoriously raised her hand up into the air; 

##  **“All Hail Queen Ramirez!”**

—

Later that evening, after Nevada was long drunk and passed out, you’d knock on the front door until Camilla let you in. She’d comb your hair with her fingers and lay with you on the couch as you told her how Johnny and you argued, since apparently you weren’t as ‘generous’ as his girlfriend would have been the evening of prom. You’d explain how he kicked you out of the car at two AM after trying to slide his hands up your skirt, and how you had to walk six blocks alone in your silky red dress until you made it back to their apartment. She’d make you some tea, and you’d fall asleep on the sofa.

Nevada would find you there the next morning, asleep under a blanket with your makeup smudged all to Hell from your crying. Camilla would explain the events from the evening before to him over coffee, and he’d decide not to wake you.

He’d never mention prom, that morning, or what transpired after to you again.

And three days later- Johnny would be found beaten black and blue after a late night of football practice. He’d never say who or why he was left behind a dumpster, but he never spoke to you again. Good riddance. 

You’d never know it was because you hadn’t cleaned your melted eyeliner from your cheeks the night after prom.

You’re welcome,  Niñita.

 


End file.
